It is to be expected that most writers with long-running series
will eventually run out of creative steam, and start either repeating
themselves (David Eddings springs to mind, recycling plots after
a mere half a dozen novels), succumbing to severe flatulence (Robert
Jordan and his ever-expanding series, each book more blimp-like
than the last), or simply turn out increasingly dire variations
on a theme (Piers Anthony's excruciating collection of feeble
puns masquerading as fiction). There are others, though, who simply
get better as they go along. Terry Pratchett's twenty-third Discworld
book conclusively proves that he is still refining his craft,
still mastering the nuances, still finding new ways to keep the
series alive and kicking arse.

As with almost any Discworld novel, Carpe Jugulum starts
with a select bundle of clichés, adds seasoning, a twist
of the unexpected and then the author lets it rise with just a
few well-concealed ingredients to spice up the mix. In this case,
the clichés he starts with are a royal christening with
suitable witchy godmothers (for this is a Lancre story, which
means Granny Weatherwax and her coven are in attendance) and some
quickly unwelcome guests (a family of vampires from neighbouring
Uberwald, invited in as a result of King Verence's political naïveté).
The vampires, however, are of a modern persuasion: not satisfied
with merely sucking on a few people's necks, this family wants
to rule the country. And as they quickly prove to be garlic-loving
appreciators of holy symbols with a tolerance of at least moderate
sunlight, the denizens of Lancre, witches included, soon find
themselves running out of ideas about how to shift the blood-sucking
usurpers. Any similarities between Pratchett's 'vampyres' and
Anne Rice's creations are, I'm sure, purely coincidental.

As followers of the Discworld series can readily imagine, the
scene is set for a right royal battle of wits between Granny Weatherwax's
coven and the vampyres, and Pratchett doesn't disappoint. He also
manages to keep the tension going in the story right to the very
end, while retaining that brilliant comic sense that he has always
had. As a result, Carpe Jugulum is an enormously satisfying
read, clever in more ways than just being very funny (which almost
goes without saying). Far from tailing off, Pratchett's talents
seem to be expanding, a fact that will delight his many fans,
and give doubters cause to come back and try the Discworld books
again. Seriously funny, peculiarly brilliant.